


A Sure Thing

by Mythdefied



Category: Hercules: The Legendary Journeys
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythdefied/pseuds/Mythdefied
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How much longer do I have to do this?" It sounded too much like a whine to Deimos, but then, he kind of thought that naked, wet, freezing and up to his ankles in mud gave him permission to whine by default.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sure Thing

The rain slid down Deimos' naked skin like a wet waterfall.

But it was a light rain, more of a mist, really, so maybe it was closer to moist dew.

No, actually, it felt more like cold ice. Or just--

"Fuck it," Deimos muttered, resisting the urge to rub his arms. He sucked at metaphors and he was freezing his ass off.

"How much longer do I have to do this?" It sounded too much like a whine to him, but then, he kind of thought that naked, wet, freezing and up to his ankles in mud gave him permission to whine by default.

"Ha!" Phobos pushed away from the tree he'd been leaning on, grinning viciously. He was fully clothed, brown leather and pale gold silk, and of course, not a drop of water was touching him, because _he_ wasn't stupid enough to take a dare from Strife.

"You lose, Strife!" Phobos said, turning that grin on their cousin.

Standing in near an old, burned tree stump, rain falling about him but not a drop touching slick black leather, Strife crossed his arms and glared, first at Phobos, then at Deimos.

"You just _had_ to open your mouth, didn't you?" he said, tone scathing.

"Huh?" Deimos frowned.

"Should've known better than to take the bet," Phobos said, still grinning. "I mean, come on, don't you think _I_ know Deimos the best?"

"What bet?" Deimos looked from one to the other, frown deepening. The only one he knew about was the dare he'd taken from Strife and there hadn't been any mention of no talking.

"I _told_ him you couldn't shut up for five minutes." Phobos clapped his hands together with a sharp laugh.

"Hey!" Deimos protested, but Phobos just waved it away.

"Oh, get over it, bro. Besides, think about what we're getting because you don't know how to keep your mouth closed." Phobos' grin morphed into a leer as he looked at Strife, looked him over. "We've got ourselves a slave for the next month."

" _What_?" Deimos stared at Strife, wide-eyed. Strife had made a bet like *that*?

Strife rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. So, you won. Doesn't start until sunset, so save the gloating."

"Gloating wasn't what I had in mind." Phobos' leer took on a darker edge before he looked over at Deimos. "Come on, bro. Let's go set a few things up in the bedroom." And he vanished in a gold bubble of light that was far too bright for the overcast day.

Deimos winced and looked away -- right at Strife. Strife, who was just standing there, weight resting back on one foot, regarding him silently, all trace of annoyance gone.

"You really made that bet?" Deimos had to ask, because it didn't seem possible. Strife had always been so clever.

Strife shrugged and dropped his arms to his sides. The rain was touching him now, bright droplets catching in the dark curls of his hair, in his eyelashes as he let his head fall back, eyes closing.

"B-But...you _know_ me." Deimos said. Strife _knew_ he liked to talk; this didn't make any sense.

"Yep." Strife said, then left his mouth open to catch a few drops of the light rain on his tongue.

"You're not this--this stupid!" Deimos said, confused. "You had to know Phobos would win."

"No, I'm not," Strife said calmly as he opened his eyes, brought his head back down. "And, yeah, I did." His gaze slid slowly downward and Deimos was abruptly reminded that he was very naked.

Then Strife grinned -- and winked.

A fast, blue flash of light and Deimos was alone in the small clearing. Cold, wet and naked. And smirking.

Fin.


End file.
